Sweet Irony
by Nymphadora
Summary: First there was Peeta and Katniss,then Cato and Clove. Not everyone loves their district partner. The musings of a teenage sociopath. Oneshot.


I swear to god, the second we get down to the top eight, I'll kill her myself. It's half the reason I was so keen to volunteer. Since we were twelve, and she hit puberty, she's done nothing but rattle on about clothes, and her hair, and which products would clear up my "unfortunate skin condition". And all these years, while she's been fantasizing about parades and stylists, I've been envisioning driving a spear through the invisible pimple that apparently mars her otherwise perfect forehead. If I hadn't been so distracted by the flaming morons from Twelve, I would have pushed her out of the chariot before the Games even began, consequences be damned.

As it is, I'm not allowed to hurt her until the alliance breaks, which is still five cannons away. Cato thinks she'll be useful for long-distance attacks against stronger tributes, because she has a bow. What he doesn't understand is that she'd never even held one before the bloodbath. The only way she'd be any help with someone like Thresh is if we got this kid from Twelve to chuck her at him. Seeing the way she's swaying her hips as she walks in front of Cato, it doesn't seem like such a bad plan. I honestly don't know why she grabbed that thing, other than the fact that it's polished metal and she seems to be drawn to anything even vaguely reflective. Glimmer's not really proficient with anything but a pair of tweezers. Her "expertise" is in martial arts. She's good, I'll admit, so long as her opponent is female. It isn't that she couldn't overpower a guy, it's that she couldn't be expected to see one properly while batting her eyelashes and flipping her ponytail.

I'm not delusional enough to think that I'll have the advantage of her hormones to give me an edge. She likes me almost as much as I like her. I however, am actually useful at a distance. I'd never have to get close enough for her to stand a chance. A genuine smile crosses my face as I imagine her sitting across from me, while we all enjoy a roaring bonfire. She'd be doing what she does every night- filing her nails with a rough stone, curling her hair around a twig, artfully tearing her clothes in strategic locations. Her brow would furrow in concentration, forming an adorable little pucker between her eyes. A perfect target. She'd glance up as she saw my sudden movement, her flawless lips forming a cherry red "o", her bright green eyes wide. And then nothing. Nothing ever, EVER again. The very thought fills me with so much glee, that when she cracks a suggestive joke about "huddling for warmth" to Twelve, I actually laugh and throw in a good-natured slap on the back. She raises her eyebrows questioningly for a second, but her arrogance wins out, and she shoots me a winning smile. I return it, because I know she'll grow on me once she stops breathing.

~o~o~

It's incredibly difficult to keep a menacing glare on my face as I watch her trying to shoot Twelve's girlfriend out of a tree. See Cato? Fat lot of good she does us. My only concern is that he'll get so frustrated with her that he'll kill her before I can. When we make camp, she asks me to take her watch. She's afraid we'll lose sponsors if she looks haggard. I bite my tongue to avoid offering to cut the bags from under her eyes. Instead, I apologize and clap her on the shoulder bracingly, telling her how tired I am. After all, she's used to all of this physical activity…because her fighting style is so demanding, of course. I tell her all of this, and she perks up, looking pleased with herself.

Glimmer must have nodded off, because Katniss Everdeen -I make a point of remembering her name after this- managed to drop a whole nest of tracker jackers on her. I laugh through the pain of my own stings as I run away. She yells at me for help. Deciding it's worth the extra sting I get on my neck, I look back over my shoulder and shout back the words I'd hoped to use in reference to a hole in the head, the same advice she'd been giving me for years. "You know, Glim, a little vanishing cream might fix that right up!" I can only hope she heard me over all the buzzing.


End file.
